


The Heist

by Babierhys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Art, Based on a Lorde Song, Community: dracomalfoy, Dark Hermione Granger, Draco falls in love, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fanfiction, Florence - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hermione falls in love, Kissing, Light Angst, Money, Muggles, Multi, Museums, Pining Draco Malfoy, Robbing, Song: Royals (Lorde), Song: The Louvre (Lorde), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babierhys/pseuds/Babierhys
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger meet again after the Dark War, away from the magical halls of Hogwarts and the dreary skies of Britain. They're wary of each other, often bickering and debating, but the former animosity is somehow missing.As they navigate their way through Florence together- Hermione wants an adventure, Draco is hellbent on getting something back- will they find the answers they're looking for? Or will they find something else altogether?
Relationships: childhood nemesis - Relationship, enemies to lovers - Relationship, falling in love - Relationship, start of a relationship - Relationship
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dramione brings me more joy than I will ever be able to express so writing this is going to one hell of a ride. It's going to be very long (hopefully) but I hope you stick around till the end.

**London**

"Have a good night, Luna!" Hermione says as the blonde witch stands in front of the fireplace, Floo powder in hand.

"You too, Hermione." Luna says, her voice as whimsical and airy as ever as she shouts her destination and goes up in green flames, disappearing. 

Hermione stares at the fireplace with slight concern, not sure if she's ever even heard of a place like what Luna just said. Shaking her head, she sighs and starts packing up the ingredients for the potion she's been working on. It's almost done and half of her wants to stay and finish it but she's got a date with Ron and he just gets so irritated if she even so much as hints that her business means as much to her as their relationship does. For some god awful reason, he just can't deal with being an equal priority, god forbid the second. 

This apothecary- The Blue Bottle- that she runs with her business partner and friend, Cho Chang was the first few things that made her feel like their was still more to give to the wizarding community even after the war was won and the aurors mostly cleaned up the remaining Death Eaters. From collecting the ingredients to pouring a finished potion into the vials and bottles, there's just something so therapeutic about it.

Leaving a note to Cho about the pending ingredients that need to be bought, she locks up the shop and apparates to the Leaky Cauldron. She doesn't really like having dinner dates here but Ron insists and she's usually so tired by the time they start that she usually just goes with the flow. Tom the hunchbacked bartender and innkeeper smiles at her, flashing a set of crooked teeth, and she smiles back tentatively.

"Hey!" Ron calls from the back, already seated at their usual table by the window. 

_Oh merlin, he looks... dishevelled,_ Hermione thinks to herself as she takes the seat across him, smiling. Indeed, he looks flustered and his eyes keep shifting from one place to another, like he can't decide what he wants to look at.

"You alright, sweetheart?" she asks, reaching out to hold his hand. He swipes it away, as if she might be infected with some deadly contagious disease. 

"What the hell? Are you okay?" she asks, brows furrowing with irritation. What the bloody hell is he on? She's fairly sure she hasn't done anything to piss him off, other than being seven minutes late. If he's mad about that, he's the one who's in for an earful. 

"Hermione, we need to talk." he says, finally looking her straight in the eyes.

Her blood runs cold at his voice; there's no hint of anger or irritation, like he does when he's trying to pick a fight about something inconsequential like her long hours at the apothecary or her wanting to stay in and read on Saturday nights instead of going clubbing. He sounds cold, like whatever he's going to say will slice right through her.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asks, her voice as calm as his. One good thing about going through a bloody war at the age of eighteen is that one gets pretty good at being collected even when their insides are in utter turmoil.

"Uh, look, this isn't coming from any place of hate or... anything like that but, uh, I want to end this." he says, but when his words meet nothing but stoic silence from her, he adds, "This relationship, I mean."

"Yes, Ron, I know exactly what you mean. I'm not daft." she snaps, ice coating each word. Her head's spinning a little and she feels as though someone has punched her in the gut but she's so furious, so unbelievably furious at him for blindsiding her like this. Who asks to go on a dinner date to fucking break up?

"You see, this! This is exactly why I don't wanna be with you anymore." Ron says, eyes flashing with anger, "I say I want to break up and you make it about me calling you daft. Merlin, Hermione, you don't have to make every fucking moment about how fucking smart you are. We know. You're here to remind us every fucking day."

"Wha- what the fuck?" Hermione sputters, yet again blindsided by the course of the conversation, "What do you even mean I take every opportunity to remind you that I am smart?"

"You do. Don't even try to say otherwise. You're so smart, so intelligent and you always make me feel like an idiot for not reading as much as you... you make this face every time you mention something you know and I don't. Like you pity me for not being a know-it-all!"

Hermione just gapes at him, her mind reeling. She's always known that Ron and she are different in regards of knowledge and hobbies but to think she's a know-it-all just for being smarter than him! Never in a million years did she think he'd actually resent it. 

"That is your issue? That I am smarter than you and you feel like an idiot because of it? Grow the fuck up, Ron. We're not eleven anymore." Hermione says, exasperated. 

She notices Tom trying to eavesdrop and she wants to smack him over his gleaming bald head. She's so embarrassed that they're even having this conversation, let alone breaking up over it. 

"Don't even get started on _your_ issues." Ron snorts and it takes every ounce of restraint in her not to hex into the next the century.

"What. Is. That. Supposed. To. Mean?" Hermione grits out from between her teeth.

"My issues are nothing compared to the ones you have. You pick on me when I am not doing something that's right according to _you._ You prioritize your career over everything. You think you are the only one who can be right. All the fucking time. And Merlin, you are boring. All you do is fucking work and read like you're already forty or something. It's like I'm dating a bloody professor." Ron says, the ends of his ears turning almost as red as his hair as his anger rises with each word. 

"You knew me since were kids. Kids! You really didn't know what you were getting into when you asked me out?" she seethes, narrowing her eyes. He opens his mouth and closes it, at a loss for words. Hermione knows fully well that this is it. This isn't the ugliest fight they've ever had but she knows that something between them is broken. Irreparably. The thought makes her chest cave in on itself, the sound of her heart cracking echoing in her ear. Balling up her hands into fists- the nails dig into her palms painfully- she shoves the thought away. Later, she'll think about it and its consequences later. 

"That's what I thought. Well, I'll be going now. Clear out the apartment within this week." Hermione says, standing up stiffly. She knows it can't have been more than ten minutes since she's arrived but the afternoon she spent making potions and meeting deadlines seems like a century ago. 

Ron's still red in the face from anger, his eyes trained on her with contempt. Even though her legs feel like they are about to give out, she starts walking. Fury and hurt rage against each other for dominance but the calm, calculative part of her shuts them down. Later; she'll deal with them later when she's away from prying eyes and the git she's dated for the last three years. 


	2. Chapter 2

**London**

Hermione isn't sure what she's doing here, in front of the Potters' residence, but all she knows is that she can't go back to the apartment that she and Ron share. Not tonight at least. Looking down at her watch, she's fairly sure that they're still up. Taking a deep breath, she rings the doorbell and waits, heart thumping furiously. She's not sure why she feels this nervous about meeting her two best friends but she has this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that this night is only about to get worse.

Harry Potter opens the door, wand in hand. Although it's been three years since the war and the wizarding world has known true peace for a while now, he still finds it hard to believe that the horrors are truly over. Hermione doesn't really blame him though; she still finds herself jumping at the slightest of sounds, hexes half formed on her lips. 

"Hey Mione', c'mon in." he says, smiling.

Following him, she shrugs off her coat and nibbles on her lower lip. She knows he's going to ask about Ron any second now and the thought of it floods her with dread. Although she's not sure why; it's not like she's the one who fucked up. They enter the living room to find a heavily pregnant Ginny lounging by the fireplace, watching a movie. According to her, it's the most wonderful thing the muggles have ever invented.

"Hermione!" Ginny squeals, holding out her arms for a hug. Hermione leans in, soaking in the warmth that Ginny Potter always radiates. 

"Where's Ron? I thought you two were getting together tonight." Harry says, drifting into the kitchen to prepare some tea. 

"How do you know?" she asks, taking a seat by Ginny.

"Oh, we went out for lunch today. He seemed a little off though." Harry muses, pouring three cups of tea for each, "Everything alright?"

"Uh, we... we broke up." Hermione finally says, looking anywhere but at her friends, "Actually, he broke up with me." 

"What?!" Ginny says, eyes widening, "Why the fuck would he do that? You're like the best thing that's ever happened to him."

Hermione clasps a hand over Ginny's, smiling gratefully. She looks up to find Harry gaping at her; she just shrugs and continues,

"He says it's because I have issues like... being a workaholic and um, being boring. He said dating me is like dating a bloody professor. Oh, also I am a know-it-all who makes him feel like an idiot all the time."

"He _is_ a bloody idiot. Why would you even need to make him feel like one?" Ginny huffs, angry red splotches appearing on her cheeks. 

"Fuck, I am so sorry Mione'. I should've warned you. I just..." Harry shakes his head, looking down at his feet.

"You knew?! You fucking knew that Ron was going to break up with her?" Ginny asks, eyes ablaze. Hermione just looks at him, dumbfounded.

"I, uh, had a conversation with Ron about it. He said something about the relationship not feeling right anymore." he says, taking a seat across the two girls, "He didn't mention anything about you, I swear. He just kept saying that it's not working for him anymore."

"Did he say why?" Hermione asks, feeling stupid for even wanting to know.

"Not really. I just figured that maybe he's getting anxious because Molly's been talking about you two getting married so much. Or maybe both of you having different careers. We all know how he feels about you not taking up the ministry jobs."

"That is just absurd. She can do whatever she wants with her career, especially since it's none of his damn business." Ginny seethes.

"Why didn't you tell me, Harry? Why didn't you tell me that he wanted out?" Hermione asks, finally looking at him.

"You know me, Mione'. I try my best to stay out of these as much as I can. Plus, I already talked to him. I told him to slow down and think about things, to take a moment to consider before making hasty decisions. I just didn't think he'd, you know, break up. I'm sorry, I really am." Harry says, sounding guilty.

"It's okay. It's just, I wish I knew, you know? I was so blindsided today." Hermione says, sighing, "But that's not even the worst part. He... h- he just took the things that I feel the most insecure about and used it to break up with me. That's what hurts. I trusted him, I thought he was my best friend so, you know, I won't have to pretend with him and be someone I am not." 

Suddenly there's a gaping hole in her heart and the tears pool in her eyes faster than she can push them down; Ginny squeezes her hand and Harry murmurs his apologies and condolences. As grateful as she is for them, their words hold little to no importance right now. She understands why Harry didn't tell her- it really isn't in his nature to get involved into personal matters unless he's asked to- but she just feels so alone. She's hopeful that Harry won't be picking any sides and neither will Ginny but Ron's her family and it'll always be him over her. 

As tears slide down her cheeks, she's not sure which makes her sadder- the break up with someone she considers to be the love of her life, the reasons why he left or the prospect of losing the whole Weasley family. Wiping at her tears hastily, she braves a watery smile at the two and murmurs, "It's fine. Don't worry, I'll be okay."

"Let me get you some food." Harry says, patting her knee and heading towards the kitchen.

"Hermione, I really am sorry." Ginny says, stroking the back of Hermione's hand with her thumb, "I know you think my family and I will favour Ron over you but that's not true at all. First, my brother is a bloody arsehole for doing this, especially the way he did it. Second, my mother sees you as her second daughter. You'll always have a place with us, Ron or no Ron."

"Oh Gin, I love you. All of you and I am so, so freaking thankful to you guys for being my family after the war. B-but I don't think I want to see Ron at all right now. I asked him to move out within this week and he'll probably be at The Burrow for a while so, you know, I don't think I'll be around much." Hermione says, smiling sadly.

"I understand but know that you're always welcome. Here and at The Burrow. Also, I think I'll pay Mum a visit the day he moves in. It'll be fun watching the git get hexed and boy, oh boy, will he be hexed." Ginny laughs and reluctantly, Hermione chuckles too. 

Harry arrives with a bowl of pasta and a glass of wine. As she digs in, Ginny starts a banter about this and that although it's mostly just her complaining about not being able to play Quidditch and how difficult it is to maneuver with her swollen belly. As glum as she feels tonight, she's grateful for the Potters and how they know her well enough to not offer her pity; she's suffered enough humiliation tonight to last her a lifetime. 

After she's done, they convince her to stay the night. At first she's reluctant, not wanting to intrude on them but the prospect of running into Ron tonight or tomorrow morning even, makes her stomach churn and heart twist so she caves in and agrees. Harry goes back to the kitchen to clean up for the night, asking if they'd like to play some board games before bed.

"Yes, love! That'd be great." Ginny calls after him and then turns to her, eyes serious, "Okay, what I am about to say might sound a little ridiculous but just hear me out."

"Ooookay?" Hermione says tentatively, a little concerned. Ginny usually has these insane ideas but she's not sure she's up for one of these at the moment.

"Go on a vacation. That's it. Take out a handsome amount from Gringotts and leave for a month or two. Just say 'fuck it' and go!" Ginny says, smiling a bit, "You've spent most of your life caught up in a war that you were too young to be a part of. All of us were, truth be told. You deserve to live a little. Go- travel, see things, know things, experience things. Harry and I made our own happiness here. You deserve that too and since you're free of my brother, you're allowed to leave. Find that epic love that makes your toes curl in delight, find that adventure that's always been in you."

"Gin... I don't know. Money isn't the problem. I mean, I can finally use the amount I was awarded after the war.. but, I don't know." Hermione says, shaking her head, "This place, you people, you're all I've ever known." 

"Exactly and I am not saying we don't make you happy or you don't love us but you should have more. You deserve more." she simply says, eyes twinkling with something that she can't quite fathom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Milan**

Draco Malfoy pulls up in front of Notti Lunghe aka Long Nights in his sleek, midnight black Jaguar. Apparition is faster and definitely less costly but he's discovered in the last three years that he quite enjoys driving. And decorating his garage with expensive new toys. Plus, the nightlife in Milan is exquisite- drunken models in teetering heels, luxurious nightclubs and the endless partying. Slipping his car keys and a handsome tip to the valet, he buttons up his suit and saunters in, smiling at the bouncer who's a familiar face in his life truth be told.

The music is loud enough to have his heart thumping to it as he looks around for his friends. A pretty blonde in a burgundy dress catches his eyes and he smiles, getting one in return too. _Maybe late_ r, he muses as he finally finds Blaise Zabini sitting in a secluded booth on the second floor. Beside him is Pansy Parkinson, lounging like she owns the place. Which she does, along with several other nightclubs and haute couture boutiques all over Italy.

"Dracooo Pooo." Blaise croons as Draco approaches them, his face grimacing at the greeting. Pansy smacks her boyfriend's arm, murmuring, "Will you let that shit go, arsehole? We were third years for Merlin's sake. Fucking thirteen year olds." 

"Yeah, we didn't even actually date. I don't know why Pans insisted on calling me that hideous atrocity." Draco huffs, taking a seat across them and waving for a waitress to take his order. 

Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson started dating shortly after the war as they both left their families for a while to just get away from the harassment and glares they received for being on the wrong side of the war everywhere they went. In Italy, however, they got a chance to start over, to be more than kids belonging to Death Eater families. For Draco, it was little more complicated and a whole lot more difficult to be as free as his friends but a year later, he did join them, looking to expand the Malfoy fortune and delve into muggle businesses. 

Two years later, he stands as a typhoon in the hotel business, owning chains of luxurious resorts and hotels all over the world. 

The night goes on and they talk about this and that, sipping on their drinks. While Draco enjoys a lot of things in the muggle world- cars, airplanes, yachts and what not- he still prefers firewhiskey over anything else. They are about to order when the rest of the group joins them- Theodore Nott, Astoria and Daphne Greengrass. 

"Hey!" Pansy squeals and gets up to hug the girls, who look more like twins as adults now. 

Theo claps the guys on the backs and a takes a seat beside Draco, pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey. Daphne sits down beside him, snuggling into his embrace. Daphne and Theo had apparently started dating at the end of sixth year but with the Dark War looming over them, it seemed like a bad idea to flaunt their romance out in the open. Besides, they all had had a very conservative upbringing and even then, as teenagers, they hadn't felt the need to let anybody know about their relationship other than their friend circle and as the whole circle had felt scattered and caught up in their own individual traumatic businesses, there had been no one to tell. However, a few months after the war, Theo cut off his ties with the surviving family members and took off with Daphne on a grand Europe tour indefinitely. 

Daphne had remained in contact with the Greengrass clan, hoping she'd be able to get her family into muggle businesses and expand the empire. Her true goal was and still is to leave behind a legacy that entails that they are not pureblood supremacists. Astoria, a year younger than the rest of the gang, had always been a wild card. The moment the war was over and the rules that had bound all pureblood children to responsibilities about marriage and what not lifted, there had been no stopping her. She joined her sister and boyfriend on their tour and within an astoundingly short span of time, she had joined the muggle modelling industry. And now, she walks in Paris Fashion Week and has more brand deals that she can count. Draco, however, has always had a sneaky suspicion that all of it had not been attained without a little bit of magic here and there. 

"So, how long are you guys going to stay here?" Blaise asks, waving to a server to come get their orders.

"I don't know, a couple of months?" Daphne replies, shrugging. Draco doesn't miss the fleeting look that passes between her and Theo; he smiles and thinks, _God, they're still like fourteen year olds._

 _"_ That's great. Blaise and I have been considering something." Pansy says gleefully, smiling at them all. 

"Although we do have all evening, telling us anytime before midnight would be good." Astoria says, popping a cashew nut into her mouth. They all roll their eyes while Pansy chuckles; Astoria has always had a snarky sense of humor, much like Draco. Although he's not sure why he doesn't really find it to be winning quality when it comes to her. 

"Why? Is there somewhere you have to be? Got a late night visitor?" Pansy teases as the server arrives. They all order, getting in debates about which is better- ravioli or spaghetti. 

"So back to you, Tori. Got a late night visitor?" Pansy says, sipping on her martini.

"There's always one or the other here and there." Astoria replies, flicking back her lego precision bob so that the longer ends of her inky, jet black hair brushes the tops of her bare shoulders. While Daphne's hair is a milder, more natural shade of the deepest brown that compliments her sun warmed skin, Astoria is all stark shades and contrasts. Her pale skin and black hair brings out her green eyes, making them vibrant to a point that they almost look unnatural. Draco's never been able to figure out how she remains this pale through all the seasons; even he gets a light golden sheen during summer for God's sake. 

"That is so annoyingly vague." Pansy says, grimacing.

"Well, a lady never kisses and tells." Astoria says, smirking.

"Hah! You are the furthest thing from a lady that we know of." Draco scoffs, laughing.

"Really? Why would you think so?" Astoria asks, arching her right eyebrow and locking eyes with him. To everyone else, even the gang, this would look like a lighthearted banter between two friends who've practically known each other since birth but Draco knows better. He _really_ wishes he didn't but he does; Astoria has been making subtle moves like this for awhile now and he's been diligently avoiding them. 

"Oh, Tori, don't be such a hypocrite. Do I need to remind you how many times your assistant has walked in on you hooking up with men backstage or in bathrooms?" Daphne laughs, saving Draco from answering. As he sends a silent thanks to her, he wonders if she knows what her sister is up to somehow. 

"Well..." Astoria laughs, sipping on her drink to keep from giving an actual answer.

"Why not just bring the guy back to your hotel room or something?" Blaise asks, his brow furrowing, "I mean, we are not in England with our families so no one is going to exile you for not saving your virtue for your husband." 

"Or try to put a chastity belt on you." Pansy chimes in and they all laugh, knowing full well that she's not entirely exaggerating. Pureblood families were very conservative and proper before the Dark War; the older generations still are. 

"I know all these. It's just... I don't really want to bring them back to the hotel room?" Astoria says, shrugging and laughing.

"Yeah, because having privacy and a comfortable surface to do the deed is just _so_ out of the question." Theo deadpans as the food arrives and they all dig in.

"Everyone has different kinks Theo, stop judging." Pansy says, smirking.

"Merlin, that's not it, okay? Even the wildest of us like our arses to be on a sold surface while being railed." Astoria says, rolling her eyes.

"A sink is a solid surface." Draco says, feigning seriousness but they all burst out laughing.

"Why is my sex life today's dinner conversation topic?"

"Because you implied that I should wrap up whatever I was going to say by midnight because you might have a late night visitor." Pansy says, cutting into her steak.

"That is not how this started. I wa-"

"Welcome to the concept of a plot twist." Draco says, spearing a ravioli.

"So not helping, Draco." Astoria says through gritted teeth.

"But jokes aside, is there a reason you never bring home the people you hook up with?" Blaise asks, "Other than whatever kinks you might have?"

"You guys really won't get it go, will you?" Astoria sighs defeatedly, eyeing her ceasar salad.

"Nope." they all say in unison.

"I don't bring them back to my hotel room because.... that would entail getting to know each other or in the least, a few conversations that I _really_ do not want to have." she says, taking a rather large sip of her wine. 

"And that's so bad because?" Pansy asks.

"Because most of the people that I hook up with are muggles. Actually all of them are." Astoria confesses, taking a few more rapid sips of her wine, "I mean, I don't mean to sound like a pureblood snob, but they have no clue about who I really am or what I like. They just know me as Claudine, not Astoria Greengrass who can do magic and you know, all that. And while I have the utmost respect for them, I find them _soooo_ boring."

"That is.. uh, something." Pansy says, unsure of how to proceed. While everyone of them here has shed all the pureblood prejudices long ago, they can't seem to ignore the fact that there are always going to be differences between people with magical abilities and muggles. And while it is very much okay for a halfblood or a muggleborn to say this and point out the differences, they are unsure if they can say it without the risk of sounding like the pureblood snobs that they were raised to be. Draco has a feeling that it comes from a place of some undiagnosed trauma of how they were treated after the Dark War and the realization and guilt of how badly they had treated muggleborns and muggles all their lives but he's never really voiced it to anyone. 

"Okay, so back to our initial conversation..." Daphne says, hoping Pansy would get the hint and fortunately, she does. 

"Right, what Blaise and I have been considering." 

"I think we might settle down. Here. In Milan." Blaise announces, his face breaking into a grin. 

"What?! Man, that's so great." Draco says, smiling one of his rare, genuine smiles.

"Yeah, you'd have us here all year around." Pansy says.

"Oh man, not so great. How about Spain?" Draco deadpans; Pansy tries to kick him in the shins but he moves away, flicking her off.

"That is wonderful, you two." Daphne says, "Oh Salazar, I feel so bad right now."

"Why?" Blaise asks, frowning, "Just because the three of us are permanently here doesn't mean we'll start a secret club with friends who only live in Italy." 

"You guys could. I mean, we don't even know where Milicent or Michael is now, do we? Theo says, stroking his chin, "All because they aren't in Italy."

"Right, because we forgot all about you guys when you were in Greece? And the moment you stepped onto Italian soil, Blaise and I woke up at three a.m. because we suddenly remembered you guys?" Pansy asks as a-matter-of-factly. 

"We really can't ever have a single conversation without getting sidetracked, can we?" Daphne asks, sighing and looking at Draco, who only grins in return.

"Well," Daphne starts rather loudly to get all of their attention, "Theo and I will be here for another eight months or so." 

"That's like end of July? August?" Draco asks, wondering when Theo became such an on schedule person; maybe Daphne is finally rubbing off on him.

"Um, yeah. We want a fall wedding." Daphne says, smiling sheepishly and entwining her fingers with Theo's.

"You WHAT?" Pansy shrieks, nearly toppling over the table they are seated at in her haste to get to Daphne.

"Yeah, we got engaged last week." Theo states, and while the statement is for the everyone, his eyes are trained upon Daphne being hugged to death by Pansy, luminous with happiness. 

"Man, congratulations." Draco says, standing up and hugging the happy couple even though he detests the whole concept of hugging.

"Tori, get railed in this club's bathroom or something tonight because we are celebrating till dawn." Blaise announces and asks a server for a champagne bottle and to keep the drinks flowing. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Milan**

There's a pink streak appearing across the east horizon as Draco steps into his villa, shrugging off his blazer and dropping the keys in the granite bowl in the foyer. He pours himself a glass of chilled water and saunters towards the back of his home, which is pretty much dominated by a huge expanse of glass wall overlooking the swimming pool and a hot tub on one end. Although the outer architecture of the villa is quite quaint, conventional and very late 19th century Italian, the interior is very modern- sleek gadgets and electronics, light and chic furniture, varying shades of black, silver and dark green for centerpieces and rugs and, what he considers to be a proud piece of decor in his collection, a gigantic snake coiled around the bannister of the staircase leading up to the second floor. 

Sipping on his glass of water and humming to the jazz softly playing in the background, Draco watches the sun wake up. Although he's always been more nocturnal than anything, preferring both the solace and the debauchery that comes with the night, he's always secretly loved watching sunrises too. Even in his sixth year, with Voldemort lording the death threat over him and his perpetual state of anger, confusion and bitterness, he had snuck out of his dorms to watch the sunrise from the Astronomy Tower. It had felt like a reprieve, an escape from constantly haranguing his brain to find ways to kill the most brilliant wizard who had ever lived and hating everyone he was supposed to hate even though he was so bone tired from it. 

Even though he is more likely to sew his lips shut with a rusted needle before he says it out loud, he knows that he only ever watches the sunrise when he feels as hopeless as he does at the moment. He knows it's the stupidest thing in the world- watching a blazing star come out of nowhere and wishing it would hand out some hope like he's some sappy bard in a fairytale- but he can't help it. Sighing, he heads upstairs, letting his fingers trail over the textured body of the basilisk. 

Slipping out of the rest of his clothes and chugging them Merlin knows where, he steps into the shower and lets the lukewarm water of the jet spray untangle the knots across his back. Last night's celebration was nothing compared to what the gang usually gets up to- they weren't even properly intoxicated for fuck's sake- and yet, he feels weary. As he stares at the tiny droplets of water on the black tiled walls of his bathroom, he realises that a hot shower will not make him feel even remotely relaxed. It's the knots in his stomach that needs untangling, not the muscles in his back. Sighing for what feel like the hundredth time in an hour, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. 

Back in his bedroom, he stands in the middle of it for what feels like an eon, listening to the eerie silence that has suddenly engulfed him entirely. Although this is his home and every inch of this place has been personalized to meet his taste, he suddenly feels like a stranger who's just walked into an impeccably furnished movie set. Suddenly, he feels like an outsider in his own life, like a story is unfolding in front of his eyes and he can only watch from the behind a glass. It occurs to him that while he might be very much in control of his life right now- something he had been fairly sure he would never be- there is literally no one else here. Sure, his friends are his chosen family and they haven't and actually might never fail him and yet, at the end of the day, it's just him and his loneliness staring at the canopy of his bed every night. There is no one else to share any moments with him, someone who'd tumble into bed with him after long nights out and fall asleep. 

Shrugging on a pair of boxers, Draco slips into bed, begging his train of thoughts to take a different direction. He knows, damn him to hell and back, he knows exactly what's causing this out of the blue self-pity party of one because it is _not_ so out of the blue. He knows it was somehow triggered by Theo and Daphne announcing their engagement. He isn't being a bad friend, although to an outsider he might seem like one, because he is genuinely happy for them and wishes them nothing short of complete happiness because he can vouch for much they deserve it but that seed of envy planted in the pit of his stomach is so fucking hard to ignore. 

Blaise and Pansy went back home together, tipsy and disgustingly in love. The same goes for Theo and Daphne, though they went in a little more dignified manner. Even Astoria left with a bartender who she had been eyeing after the clock chimed two in the morning. And what did he do? Drive home in his Jaguar and is now lying in bed, wallowing in some self pity. _How utterly_ _pathetic_ , Draco thinks to himself and rolls over, sighing yet again. He knows he could have come home with the blonde in a burgundy dress but he knows how it goes, always. They come home, fuck somewhere in the villa, the girl asks some questions and he's polite and the sun comes up and they kiss goodbye. Not that he's complaining; it happens like this because he has no interest in furthering the conversation. They are all gorgeous and respectable women but the attraction never goes anywhere beyond physical. Sometimes, especially on nights like this, he wonders if something really is fucked up in his head, if there is some irreparable damage that cannot be reversed no matter what. 

_What the fuck am I even thinking_ , Draco chides himself, fiddling with the family ring on the index finger of his right hand. Shoving aside all thought, especially the ones that has anything to do with his loneliness, he stares up at the fresco on the ceiling, watching it get brighter and brighter as the sun fully rises above the east horizon. 


End file.
